


king and lionheart

by whovian91011



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovian91011/pseuds/whovian91011
Summary: Jaeda Baratheon feels like an outcast within her own family. In a sea of gold hair and bright colored eyes, she stands out like a beacon in a crowd with her dark eyes and even darker hair - everyone says she favors her father, Robert Baratheon, and his looks. Her mother despises her, and her Uncle Jaime, while not unkind, keeps his distance. Even though she’s very fond of her younger siblings and their Uncle Tyrion, she feels very much alone. With the growing threat of the Targaryen girl and perpetual tensions with the North, Jaeda finds that her loyalties are tested between family and foe. But, as she gradually comes to understand, family and foe aren’t mutually exclusive.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Margery Tyrell/Original Female Character - minor, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sansa Stark/Original Female Character
Comments: 19
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Joffrey was an abominable little fuck, and Jaeda was happy he was dead.

The funeral of the poisoned king of the seven kingdoms was a somber affair, but just below the surface, there was a sense of relief. The little terror of Westeros was no more. The problem of who would ascend the throne in his absence. Standing amongst her grieving family, Jaeda Baratheon should have felt something beyond her tremendous sense of relief. Did that make her a monster? Perhaps, but not as much of a monster as her older brother.

Witnessing her mother’s sobs, Jaeda reached out to take her hand, but Cersei immediately jerked her hand away and brought it up to her face as she approached the body. The rejection by her mother stung her, but it was an ache she had long ago grown accustomed.

All of her life, Jaeda felt like an outcast within her own family. In a sea of gold hair and bright colored eyes, she stood out like a beacon in a crowd with her dark eyes and even darker hair - everyone claimed she favored her father, Robert Baratheon, and his looks. 

Uncle Jaime, while not unkind, always kept his distance from her as well. Despite that, he gave her a compassionate smile, though briefly. Before she could return it, his attention was once more on late king. 

Feeling a clammy hand at her skin, she looked down and noted Tomin slipping his hand in hers. His sweet cherub face was red and stained with tears. Despite the affair, Jaeda’s heart went out to him and squeezed his hand. He gave her a watery smile in return. He was the only family, besides Myrcella and Tyrion, she felt somewhat connected to, but Myrcella wasn’t here nor was Tyrion. 

Just the thought of Tyrion rotting in the Red Keep turned her stomach. In her heart, Jaeda believed he would never commit such an act against his own family, even if they had abandoned him at every turn. She understood the feeling all too well. 

The funeral processions ended. After the royal family made their exits, including members of House Tyrell and other noble houses, the rest of the guests exited the building and returned to their daily lives. 

Spotting Jaime alone, Jaeda found herself approaching him. Despite the distance between them, she knew in her heart that he was her one chance of saving Tyrion. Throughout the years, she noticed their close relationship, despite her mother’s best efforts to deter him. If she could only talk to him…

“Uncle Jaime,” Jaeda murmured once within reach. “May I have a word? I promise, it will only take a moment.”

Nodding to one of the knights in dismissal, Jaime Lannister turned more fully towards her. His golden glove caught the sun’s glimmer. “How are you?”

Biting her lip, Jaeda contemplated if she should answer honestly and quickly thought better of it. “I’m… managing as best I can, but I’m more concerned for Uncle Tyrion.”

There was a flicker of sadness in Jaime’s gaze, and Jaeda knew in that moment she had an ally. Before he could say anything to redirect the conversation, she asked, “Have you been to see him? How is he? It’s been days since… well, you know. Are they feeding him? Have they questioned him?”

She didn’t mean for the rapid fire questions to tumble out of her, but they came of their own volition. With each question asked, the higher her voice became as well as the tightening inside her chest. If she kept this up, she would become hysterical.

Sensing this, Jaime reached for her and rubbed her arm gently, which surprised her. His voice was quiet as he spoke, “Sh, Jaeda. Don’t work yourself into hysterics. I’m sure he is fine. And I have it on good authority that he has been fed.” He looked around them and leaned forward, dropping his voice so that only she might hear. “I will be visiting him tonight.”

Jaeda nodded, blinking back tears. “Will you send him my love? And that I’m praying for him?”

Jaime nodded, his expression warm and gentle. “Of course. He’ll be happy to hear that.”

“Thank you,” she murmured and then let him go, not wanting to be caught speaking of the youngest Lannister brother. There was already talk of his impending trial. Although her grandfather Tywin Lannister would preside, Jaeda feared for the worst. There was never any love lost between Tyrion and his father, with the only exception that he bore the Lannister name.

Unlike her mother and sometimes Jaime, Tyrion had always treated her well. He doted on her every chance he got. In many ways, he felt like a second father to her. He consoled her whenever she’d been upset, whether from an argument with Joffrey or simple young person angst. She knew she could confide in him, and he would not tell a soul. Outcasts protected their own. But at least Tyrion knew why.

Retiring to her chambers, Jaeda disrobed herself only of the top layer of her dress and then walked towards her bed. She considered reading but felt no compulsion to pick up a book, a certain sign that she was feeling unwell. Books were her passion. They provided escapism from the world around her, and she loved them all the more for it. She and Sansa would take turns reading to each other of different stories. She loved the fantastical histories where the Stark girl enjoyed her knight and fairytale romances.

The thought of Sansa made her heart ache. Since her arrival in King’s Landing, Jaeda had taken a liking to the girl. The more time they spent with each other, the more determined she became on being her friend. She knew her mother well and remembered what had happened to Sansa’s previous friend in this castle. Unlike Jeyne Poole, Cersei couldn’t make her own daughter disappear, no matter how much she would like to.

Sansa’s disappearance caused her more distress than she was willing to reveal to anyone. Overhearing her mother’s shrill screaming over finding the Stark girl, Jaeda knew that Sansa was suspected of having taken part in Joffrey’s killing. 

As if Tyrion, she knew in her gut that Sansa Stark was incapable of harming anyone, even someone as cruel and wicked as her brother. However, no matter the odds, Cersei was determined to get whatever she wanted. Jaeda would pray that wherever Sansa was, that she continued to run and run like hell and to always be safe.

Part the other part of her, a much larger part, the selfish side of her, wanted nothing more than to have Sansa with her. She wanted to put her arms around her and never let her go. Sansa’s beauty and kindness never ceased to awe Jaeda. Joffrey hadn’t deserved being betrothed to her.

She realized her feelings for Sansa were more than simple intimacy between girlfriends. It was something that she had known for some time but had refused to acknowledge it, suspecting that her friend would not share in her feelings. Sansa always talked about finding and loving a handsome knight to sweep her off her feet. How could Jaeda possibly compare to that?

So with her heart clenched and her lips clamped shut, she’d observed the aftermath of the betrothal between her and Joffrey and never once considered telling her. Even if she had worked up the courage, by the time she would have been ready, the intended marriage of Sansa to her Uncle Tyrion was announced. She watched as Sansa’s heartbreak as if it were her own, and in a way it was. Once again, Sansa was tied to the Lannisters. She couldn’t escape King’s Landing. How selfish would Jaeda be if she had told her how much she truly cared for her?

Jaeda hadn’t desired to be yet another Baratheon or Lannister to keep her hostage.

Wearily, she lowered herself into her bed. She stared at the ceiling for a long while before she realized she was crying. Crying for an uncle who was unjustly accused, crying for a mother who never cared, crying for a love that would never be returned. Jaeda cried silently and kept crying until she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Sansa Stark and Jaeda Baratheon are 18 years old in this fic. By extension, Joffrey was aged up to 19 as well. Margery is 21 or 22, based on the show's version of her character.

As the days drew closer to Tyrion’s trial, Jaeda’s nerves became more fraught, though she hid them well.

She did everything in her power to distract herself, throwing herself into her lessons with her septa, attending court as she was instructed to do. She spent as much time with her younger brother as she was able, but knowing he would assume the Iron Throne, there would hardly be any time for sibling friendship any longer. With Marcella in Dorne, Jaeda never felt more alone.

Although, there was one exception.

“Jaeda.” 

The familiar melodious voice drew the young Baratheon woman’s attention away from her sewing towards the entrance of her chamber. 

Margery Tyrell, incredibly beautiful and charming, had become a quite unexpected friend. The two women had grown rather close during her first days in King’s Landing, although not as close as her relationship with Sansa. They took strolls around the gardens, with Jaeda enthralled with her tales of High Garden and the beautiful lands the Tyrells held there. She herself had never set foot outside King’s Landing, mostly due to her mother’s insistence that she remain behind. The only exception had been traveling to Winterfell a few years back, and that was only at her father, King Robert Baratheon’s insistence.

Looking lovely as ever with her long honey colored hair falling past her shoulders, Margery invited herself into her chambers, a fact that never particularly troubled Jaeda. It was a routine of sorts they established when they first started spending time together, although she was surprised to see her now. She was to marry Tomen and become queen once he became of age and assume the throne.

Jaeda suspected she had fancied girls for a while by the time she discovered her feelings for Sansa. She had nothing against boys. Seven hells, she liked them as well, but she could never deny her attraction to her own sex. There was never anyone that she could talk to about these feelings, so naturally she kept them bottled up inside for as long as she could. Then she began to grow up and realized that she couldn’t entirely keep her hormones in check. She’d had her fair share of “indiscretions”, as her mother would call it, prior to her eighteenth birthday, many of whom women of her age. It never went beyond kissing, though her youthful hormones had her yearning for more.

Since she wasn’t in line for the throne, Jaeda’s dalliances were overlooked, for more reasons than one she suspected. While exciting in the moment, they often left her unfulfilled and wanting more. Those few alleged friendships she had where they did progress tentatively beyond the realms of friendship simply wished to engage in something scandalous and nothing more. She came to learn quickly they merely viewed her as a source of amusement and entertainment. At that point in her life, she had been so lonely she was more than happy to play the court fool.

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact shift in their relationship. She could only recall bits and pieces of a conversation shared between them, nothing verbatim. What she could remember was the feeling of understanding that struck her at the insinuation behind the other woman’s words. An accidental brush of a hand that wasn’t accidental, a meaningful look that lingered too long, only more than several occasions. This led her to confide in Margery about her feelings, unable to turn to anyone else, and her friend held a sympathetic ear.

In that moment, the best Jaeda could offer Margery was a faint smile. “It’s good to see you.”

Margery returned the smile kindly. “It’s good to see you as well. I’ve missed you these past few days.” Her expression turned contrite. “I’m so sorry that I haven’t been here for you. Everything has been so busy, in preparation for the… wedding.”

 _Yes, your second wedding in almost a week_ , she thought bitterly but immediately pushed the thought aside. It wasn’t Margery’s fault. It… was just the way that it was. Although, a quiet traitorous voice in the darkest corner of her mind interjected, she doesn’t have to marry him. She could’ve chosen you.

That thought was even harder to ignore.

She knew how much Margery wanted to be queen. She had made it perfectly clear that nothing would stand in the way of that. Even their secret relationship, if one could call it that.

“I know things must be difficult for you,” the queen-to-be continued, her tone gentle. “Lord Tyrion. You were very close to him.”

“I am,” Jaeda corrected quietly. When it was apparent she had no concentration of continuing her sewing, she set aside her work and shifted on the comfortably cushioned oak bench to make room. Taking her up on the unspoken offer, the fair haired woman joined her.

Margery was so close to her now that she could smell her fragrant perfume, something floral and sweet. Even through the layers of their skirt, she was all too aware of the warmth of her knee pressed against hers. It took everything inside Jaeda to not give into doing the things she wanted to do. Instead, she reminded herself to remain calm and focus on her friend’s company.

“I hope he gets a fair trial.”

Jaeda huffed out a dry laugh. “It’s King’s Landing. My mother and grandfather are on the council overseeing his case. There will be no fair trial.”

She nearly felt her will caving in when Margery’s warm hand covered hers, squeezing comfortably. The Baratheon girl exhaled slowly before turning her gaze towards her. “He didn’t do it, Margery. I just know he didn’t.”

Perhaps she was making a mistake. She shouldn’t be confiding in Margery, whose loyalties were so closely aligned with her family. She understood that and even respected it; it was just difficult for her to relate to. Still, her heart was telling her to trust her. Her heart often dictated her decisions over her mind. One day that was going to get her into trouble.

Momentarily indecisive, Margery threw a glance at her bedroom door which was only partially open and leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice in confidence, “Between you and I, I don’t believe he did it either.”

Jaeda’s eyes widened. “You believe me?”

Margery nodded. “I do.”

Oh, she could have kissed her for that, but she restrained herself, barely. “You must speak to them then. You’re the queen, or… going to be queen. You’ll have some sway…”

She trailed off at Margery’s suddenly grim expression. “They won’t allow me to speak at the trial nor will they listen to me. I may or may not be queen now, that area is far too gray, which makes it much easier for them to deny me any privilege.”

Jaeda’s shoulders slumped in defeat, the brief burst of wind disappearing from her sails. That was it then. Her uncle’s trial would be as unfair and as unbiased as one would ever be.

“Jaeda, look at me, love,” she heard Margery murmur, her hand gentle and warm on the side of her neck. The act was so familiar, so intimate that Jaeda did the opposite. She closed her eyes and soaked in the warmth before finally opening her eyes to meet Margery’s.

“No matter what happens, you’ll always have me,” Margery promised, her heart shining in her beautiful eyes. “No matter what.”

Heart constricting, Jaeda smiled sadly. “But not all of you.”

Margery’s expression could have broken her heart. “Perhaps… perhaps not. But we can always find moments, when we’re alone.” It was as if she were pulling straws, desperate to keep things the way they were. She didn’t want to lose Jaeda or what they had, but Jaeda knew that they both knew that they couldn’t continue down this path without either of them getting hurt.

Jaeda shook her head. “We knew this would be inevitable. I don’t want to give you up, give us up, either, but… I’ve been in the shadows for all of my life. I don’t want to hide any more.”

Smiling tearfully, Margery murmured, “I understand.” Then she pressed her forehead against Jaeda’s, both women’s eyes falling closed. “I never meant to be selfish with you, nor do I mean to be now. But I believe I have been, in a way. I wanted you all to myself, but in the back of my mind, I suspected your heart was with another.”

When Jaeda went to pull back in askance, she felt the queen’s soft hand pressing gently against the back of her neck, her fingers brushing lightly at loose tendrils of hair. Jaeda barely suppressed a pleasant shudder. “May I…”

“Yes, please,” Jaeda interrupted hoarsely before their mouths meshed together, tantalizingly sweet.

A jolt of pleasure shot through her. The feeling was intense, as it always was. Margery’s lips were soft and gentle against her own, whispers of promise and longing shared between them, though those promises were nothing more than words now, as much they both resented it. Words were one thing, however; physical touch was another. Neither woman had ever encountered trouble with the physical act of language.

The kiss increasingly became desperate and deep. Jaeda’s traitorous hands wound their way into Margery’s golden locks, tugging in just the right way she knew the other woman liked. Margery’s breathy soft moan ignited a familiar flame inside her, and soon they were clinging to each other as if they were the only two people left in the world.

She positively ached for her touch. Her insides quivered in anticipation as Margery’s hand skimmed down her neck, lingering along her collarbone before hovering just above the top of her breast. Whimpering softly, Jaeda wanted nothing more than to arch into her touch, to press Margery down onto her back into her bed, dance away the aches and throbbing need until they were both pleasantly spent, as they had done countless times before. And it would be so easy to do it now.

And oh, _so_ sweet.

Laughing breathlessly when their lips parted, Margery groaned softly, “This is why we can never be alone.”

Jaeda joined in her laughter, a faintest hint hysterical to conceal her arousal. “We’re in agreement.” Her hand had found its way to Margery’s breast, and against her better judgement, she gave it a gentle squeeze, licking her lips at her friend’s soft, guttural moan. Margery returned the favor by circling a nipple through the silk material of Jaeda’s dress, smiling at the younger girl’s sharp exhale.

“This – this must be the last time,” Jaeda murmured, words which did not sound entirely truthful to her ears, though she needed to believe them now. “We must be strong.”

Margery’s mouth twitched upwards slightly, her lips swollen from their kisses. The sight of her lips and tousled hair made Jaeda want to kiss her again. “I fear I may not be as strong as you. But if that is what you wish.”

“It’s not what I wish,” Jaeda remarked softly. “It’s what must be.” She finally allowed her hand to fall. It took a few moments longer for Margery to do the same.

Once they gathered themselves, Margery rose from the bench and prepared to leave when she looked at Jaeda. “Will we see each other for supper?”

Jaeda met her gaze steadily, her cheeks warming. They often sat across from one other at dinner where Cersei, Tommen, Ser Loras, and occasionally her grandfather Lord Tywin would be present, now with the permanent exclusion of Joffrey, exchanging glances as conversations were had and wine was shared. At the end of supper, they would make their excuses and turn in for the evening, often not alone. So she knew very well what Margery meant by the inquiry.

Swallowing, she replied, “We shall see.” It wasn’t an outright refusal, which Margery noted as she gave her hand one final squeeze and left the room, leaving the door open.

Jaeda observed her retreating form and took another steadying breath. She needed to be strong, but she was oh so very weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a Sansa/Jaeda fanfic. There will be more build up for them and how/when the girls finally reunite ;)
> 
> Another important change, apart from the aging up, is that I'm tossing out the Sansa-Ramsey marriage plot. Sansa Stark has been through too much and deserves better than that.


	3. Chapter 3

As it so happened, Jaeda did see Margery at supper. With a few purposeful looks and “accidental” grazes at the table, the Baratheon girl knew very well she wouldn’t be returning to bed alone. When they retired for the evening, they engaged in a feast of their own.

Tonight, their lovemaking was anything but frantic, though not any less passionate. They each savored their time in taking the other apart. That was how Jaeda found herself now, lying on her back, fingers tangled in those silk honey tresses with Margery’s head buried between her thighs.

Sweat glistening along her skin, Jaeda panted harshly, arching her hips with each skillful brush of Margaery’s talented tongue. She had only just brought her friend to orgasm moments prior with her fingers, and now she seemed to be doing her best to render her boneless. Oh, Jaeda intended to return the favor in spades next time.

No, no. This was the last time.

Keep telling yourself that, that traitorous voice purred as Jaeda came with a sharp gasp, her entire body wracked with quivering spasms.

Looking extremely smug, Margery nuzzled her thigh and gave one final lick to Jaeda’s sensitive folds, sending another round of pleasurable quivers through the younger woman, before crawling back up her body to steal another kiss.

“You’re wonderful,” Margery sighed against her mouth, groaning as Jaeda thoroughly explored the taste of her mouth. 

“Mmm, I believe that’s you,” Jaeda murmured, still flying high from the afterglow. “You’ve managed to have gotten me off twice this evening.”

Margery nipped at her lower lip. “It’s only fair. You’ve done the same for me.”

Jaeda drew her closer, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Are you certain? I could’ve sworn it was three times, not two.” She recalled with perfect clarity of Margery’s rapturous reaction to her initial orgasm, though Jaeda’s vison had been slightly obscured by her friend’s position astride her face. Her most recent one had been with her fingers, but in between, she could’ve sworn Margery’s form stiffened in a way she was all too familiar with.

Margery smiled demurely. “A lady never tells.”

Huffing out a laugh, Jaeda said, “I don’t mind if you had more than I did. Just admit it. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

Licking her lips, Margery breathed, “All this talk of pleasure is driving me crazy. I better go before I have you again. To make it an even three.”

“So you admit it then,” Jaeda declared, ignoring the dull sting as Margery rose from her bed. “It was three!”

Margery’s musical laugh partially soothed the ache inside Jaeda’s chest as she watched her dress. By the time, Jaeda’s head touched her pillow again, her friend had returned to her own chambers.

\---

“Jaeda!”

The Baratheon princess blinked out of her reverie and met the gaze of her exasperated septa. “Have you heard anything that I said?” 

Blushing, Jaeda shook her head, not having the heart to lie. She rarely did to her septa, which almost always worked in her favor – not that was the reason she did it, mind you. With an exasperated fondness, Septa Myna pointed towards her text. “Resume reading on page 394.”

“Yes, septa,” she murmured respectfully. The sight of Septa Myna’s smile let her know her indiscretion was forgiven.

Different portions of the day were dedicated to different subjects. More rigorous topics of politics, maths, and sciences were held in the morning followed by a lengthy break from lunch to her afternoon lessons, history and etiquette, among others. 

Ironically enough, history always fascinated her. She enjoyed learning tales from the past and how things came to be, yet she was being set up to fail by reading copious stories of old as soon as she supped. No one could stay awake for that.

By the time she reached the Andal Invasion when there was a knock on the door.

“The queen requests your presence,” a servant spoke softly. She was a wisp of a girl. She easily would have been ninety pounds soaking wet. 

Jaeda was about to rise when she couldn’t help but ask, “Which queen?”

Looking confused, the servant girl replied, “Your mother.”

Her shoulder’s slumped. “Oh.”

“Jaeda!” Septa Myna chided gently, but Jaeda paid her no mind, rising from her seat to go meet her mother.

Concealing her thoughts from appearing on her face, Jaeda smoothed out her skirts and followed the servant girl out the courtyard, down the corridors of the Red Keep until they arrived at the Tower of the Hand where Jaeda paused, gazing upwards at the stairwell, remembering all the times she had visited Tyrion there.

Taking a measured breath, she collected herself and followed the girl upwards.

Jaeda entered the Tower of the Hand, very conscious of the fact the servant girl slipping away to perform other duties. Lucky girl, she thought miserably as she walked into the room.

Cersei and her father Lord Tywin, Jaeda’s grandfather, were deep in discussion when the sound of Jaeda’s rustling skirts alerted them to her presence. Neither one of them were inclined to smile nor did they exactly frown. Uncertain of what to say or do, she waited until she was directed to sit next to her mother across from Tywin at his large oak desk.

“I’m pleased you were able to join us,” he remarked, though his expression did not betray even a hint of this alleged pleasure. “Your mother and I are in discussions of an arrangement for you.”

“An arrangement?” Jaeda inquired.

“Of marriage.”

Her eyes widened, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. She knew better than to object to her grandfather, whose very presence was notorious of putting the fear into any man. Besides, even if she did object, her protests would fall on deaf ears.

Seemingly pleased with her lack of response, Tywin continued, “We’re sorting through prospects, but we must act quickly. Ideally, the marriage should take place not long after the royal wedding.”

“And when will that be? Before or after your son’s trial?” Jaeda asked abruptly. She flinched as Cersei’s nails dug into her flesh.

Whether he felt something at her remark, it didn’t cross his expression. He transitioned without acknowledging her comment, “We could pose an offer to Loras.”

Cersei shook her head. “Absolutely not. That will be giving them far more power than they deserve. If you recall their attempt to swipe little Sansa Stark into their armory.”

Instinctively, her heart fluttered at the mention of Sansa’s name. Silly girl, she reprimanded herself silently. Isn’t it time for you to move past this fancy? No matter what she told herself, though, deep in her heart she knew her feelings were more than a simple fancy of a young woman. A part of her was still in denial, apparently.

“The Martels are another option. The young prince is smitten with Marcella,” Cersei suggested. “This would solidify our families standing even further.”

And get me out of your sight, you mean, she thought, her eyes traveling from her mother to grandfather, whose expression was pensive.

“There is also House Bolton to consider,” Tywin remarked after a brief silence. “It would strengthen our ties with the new warden of the North.”

“He’s already married,” Cersei pointed out.

“He is indeed. But not his son.”

Jaeda could keep silent no longer. “Must I be present for this? I understand perfectly that I have no part in these negotiations of my future, that I have no say in the pursuit of my husband. Either way, I’ll be there in the Great Sept, the one dressed in white.”

If looks could kill, the expression on Cersei’s face would have eviscerated her. Even Tywin’s eyebrows rose a little, indicating his surprise at her uncharacterizable blunt retort. Jaeda Baratheon, the portrait of a lovely young lady who respected those above her, was kind to those seen beneath her, and always tried to maintain a charitable heart. No one would expect her to set even one toe out of place even if the situation called for it.

And she believed the situation called for it now.

Before she could carry on, Cersei interrupted her, her grip on her daughter’s hand turning viselike, “We’ll return to the matter privately. I’ll escort my daughter back to her studies.” She looked at Jaeda sharply. “You mustn’t be late for your etiquette lessons.”

“I took them this morning,” Jaeda pointed out.

Cersei simpered. “Then perhaps I’ll advise Septa Myrna you need afternoon lessons as well. Come.”

Without much choice, Jaeda followed her mother out of the room, not uttering a single word in the stairwell, not risking the chance of echoes.

Cersei abruptly halted in an empty corridor and turned on her daughter, her expression unhappy. “You need to mind that tongue of yours. One day it could land you into trouble.”

Exasperated, Jaeda said, “I always hold my tongue. When have I ever said anything out of turn, apart from today?”

“It’s the price of womanhood, child. We’re meant to be seen and not heard.” Her mother’s ironic smile turned bitter. “As women, we have no choice but to do our duty. You’ll see that one day.”

For the briefest of moments, Jaeda believed they were sharing a true moment of understanding, mother and daughter commiserating over their stations in life. A raven’s feather could have knocked her over with the thought. 

As soon as the revelation came, it went. Cersei’s emotional gaze hardened. “Return to your lessons. Don’t expect to see until supper.”

Jaeda nearly asked why, but the words caught in her throat. From the suppressed glimmer in Cersei’s eyes, she knew why.

Tyrion’s trial would soon commence.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me @ annawoodhull.tumblr.com :)
> 
> Jaeda's rep is Rose Williams, who plays the lovely Charlotte on Sandition and has also played Princess Claude on Reign and has guest starred on Medici season 3.
> 
> Here's a manip I made of my new lovely OC:
> 
> <https://annawoodhull.tumblr.com/post/190485860125/king-lionheart-jaeda-baratheon-jaeda-feels>  
> 


End file.
